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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108682">People of the Earth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sibylvane/pseuds/sibylvane'>sibylvane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Divination, First War with Voldemort, Grief/Mourning, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mental Breakdown, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Seer Marlene McKinnon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:35:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sibylvane/pseuds/sibylvane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em>I hate war,</em> she used to whisper to Dorcas in that particular silence unique to a battle in a stalemate, <em>I hate that I'm letting it consume me and swallow me whole.</em></p><p> </p><p>Marlene McKinnon, July 16th 1981.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marlene McKinnon &amp; Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon &amp; Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon &amp; Original Character(s), Remus Lupin &amp; Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black &amp; Marlene McKinnon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>People of the Earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>It goes like this:⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p> </p><p>“The loss of the Gideon and Fabian Prewett was a disastrous blow to our cause, but we cannot let it push us back —"</p><p> </p><p>The uncomfortable chair in the meeting room digs into her back, but Marlene stubbornly keeps rocking it back and forth. her whole body feels restless. It's late at night, by now, considering how long this meeting has been going on. She wishes she could just go outside for a smoke. Scratch that — she wishes Dorcas was here, not on a mission somewhere Marlene can’t follow. </p><p> </p><p><em> ( A </em><em>man who cried for a love gone stale and ice-cold hearts of charity bare </em>  … the sensation of her fingers clawing at the worn floorboard beneath her, trying to crawl forward, forward, <em> danger, danger, danger<em>.</em> ) </em>⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p>⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p> </p><p>She swallows, pushing the images away despite the sudden ache in her fingertips. Marlene looks away from Mad-Eye, lets her eyes sweep over this crowd of angry adults and even angrier children. Their army. Their resistance. She feels so old, all of a sudden. Old and weary.</p><p> </p><p><em> ( Crucio </em> , a voice calls out, and suddenly there are children screaming. Someone is laughing, but Marlene can’t see their faces, can only feel numb pain and where is everyone? She feels so empty yet so, so heavy. Everything hurts. There are flashes of green and red, Marigold’s voice, half-buried somewhere in the flurry of noises and impressions, pleading, <em>I'll do whatever you want</em>— <em> ) </em></p><p> </p><p>Marlene doesn't remember standing up, but her chair clatters to the floor anyway. Peter, seated opposite her at the table, raises a questioning eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>"McKinnon?" Moody's gruff voice briefly interrupts the ringing in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>( Spells collide with stone walls. Broken pots. Two small bodies, strewn like discarded toys amongst flowers in a garden. Broken bricks. So many people are screaming, a horrid choir. <em> Leney, Leney, </em> Rory whispers. please stop, Marlene wants to beg him, she who never begs, <em> stop stop stop <em>.</em> ) </em></p><p> </p><p>"McKinnon?” She doesn't realize that she's been talking out loud until Moody repeats himself.</p><p> </p><p>Marlene blinks. "I'm really sorry, sir, but I have to go— ”</p><p> </p><p>She’s never seen Mad-Eye truly surprised, much less speechless. But had Marlene slowed down and really looked at him at this moment, she would’ve noted that this was the closest he’d gotten during the years that she’s known him. But there is no time to say <em>by the way, did I tell you I'm a Seer and I think my family is in danger. </em></p><p> </p><p>There’s no time to explain. Besides —</p><p> </p><p>She clasps Sirius’ shoulder on the way out, but suddenly he’s cornered against a brick wall and he’s laughing, a high and manic and absolutely devastated sound, tears rolling down his cheeks as he looks at something over Marlene's shoulder. Why are you laughing, she wants to ask, why why why. Then she blinks and he’s older, grim, curses illuminating his face in the midst of an underground battle, <em> nice one, James— </em></p><p> </p><p>"Tell Jim and Lils that I said hi,” she manages to grit out. Sirius, the one seated at a table in the headquarters, ear newly pierced and his leather jacket slung carelessly over his chair, replies something she can’t hear. Marlene has already walked past him.</p><p> </p><p>Her cheek burns as if it had been slapped.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Two weeks after this was taken... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There's the ghost of wind in her hair:  <em>Leney. </em></p><p> </p><p>A green light. <em>Not the children. </em></p><p> </p><p>She has to lean against the wall outside the meeting room to stop her head from spinning. When she looks up, Remus is standing next to her, worry clearly visible on his scarred face and <em> what's going on </em>at the tip of his tongue. She can't bring herself to pretend to be fine.</p><p> </p><p>"Marlene?" Remus has always known more than he says. He's a smart bloke — of course he can tell what's happening to her.</p><p> </p><p>She swallows. "If I haven't gotten back to you in half an hour, send someone to Upper Flagley."⠀</p><p> </p><p>Remus looks like he's about to protest. "Please trust me," Marlene adds, uncharacteristically quiet. The <em> I don't want to risk your life, too, </em>remains unspoken.</p><p> </p><p><em>What if it's a trap, </em>Marlene doesn’t say, but she knows Remus thinks so.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marlene has never been particularly fond of apparition, but she feels positively nauseous when her feet finally lands on the familiar cobblestone streets of her beloved Upper Flagley. She sways on her feet, for a moment, taking several deep breaths as the nausea settles in her stomach. The dread weighs her down, but Marlene soldiers on. her body is buzzing with nervous energy and her palms are clammy.</p><p> </p><p>The door to the McKinnon house is locked when she gets there. Marlene knows better than to try alohomora — her father would never allow such a simple spell to work on his home. Not now. Not since mum died. Not when there’s a war raging, even inside of Marlene's family home.</p><p> </p><p>She whispers the password, words heavy on her tongue. The wards go down, and Marlene creeps into the house with her wand clutched tightly in her hand, ready to strike.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There’s no one there.</p><p> </p><p>Marlene searches every room, increasingly less careful about being cautious and staying calm. there are signs of struggle: a broken teacup in the kitchen, furniture that's been knocked over, scorch-marks on the walls from stray curses. But no one. The fear in her stomach turns into frantic panic. <em>No, no, no, where are you, where are you, where are you. </em></p><p> </p><p>That’s when it hits her. Brown stone, green grass, potted plants. Like every other home in Upper Flagley. Like<em> her</em> home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> no. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marlene runs down the street at breakneck speed. She sprints past Dorcas’ house, dark and empty now that she is away. There are no lights in any window she passes — the village seems more like a ghost town, these days.</p><p> </p><p>Marlene doesn’t bother to close the garden gate behind her, throwing the door to her cottage open. The effortless grace that she finally gained during her late teens is forgotten as she almost trips over her discarded pair of wellington boots in the hallway. There are voices coming from the living room, but she can only hear fractions of what they're saying. The feeling of déjà vu makes her nausea resurface.</p><p> </p><p>"Please, let the children go, I'll do whatever you say–"</p><p> </p><p>Screams.</p><p> </p><p>Marlene’s head hurts.</p><p> </p><p>There’s music playing faintly in another room — the turntable, enchanted to change sides and repeat itself, is still playing a record. She must've forgotten to turn it off before she left for the meeting earlier. Now, it provides a powerful soundtrack to Marlene's panic.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair, spreading his hand on the multitude there— </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She stops dead in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>There are three unmoving bodies on the floor, Marlene registers numbly. two of them she doesn’t know, but she can see their dark marks proudly displayed on their forearms. The third, however, is achingly familiar.</p><p> </p><p>Her father, her brilliant, incredible father, lies still on the floor, eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>There are perhaps six or seven death eaters still alive. They’ve got her siblings lined up in the center of the room, disarmed and defenseless. They look like they’ve all been taken from different places: Rory seems to have been getting ready for bed and Lesley, still in her quidditch gear, is sporting an already darkening bruise on her cheek. Donna is slumped on the floor, visibly exhausted even though her face is obscured by her long blonde fringe. Frida and Addie are clutching each other, separated from their mother. A death eater Marlene doesn’t recognize has their wand pointed at the small girls. They’re crying, both of them, terrified sobs that rock their whole bodies. God, they haven’t even started school yet.</p><p> </p><p>For ( not ) the first time in her life, she wishes that her visions were nothing more than silly fantasies. Marlene’s heart clenches, angry and scared and full of grief for the future she knows, deep in her heart, that she will never see. But no matter what, she will do whatever it takes to ensure that her nieces will see it in her place.</p><p> </p><p>The screams are Marigold’s, who’s writhing at the feet of a death eater she recognizes: Travers. <em> Crucio </em>, she’d heard in her vision.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I see no day, I heard him say, so grey is the face of every mortal— </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her spell hits Travers in the back, and chaos erupts. Lesley breaks free with a shout and kicks a death eater in the chest. Marigold follows her lead but dives for her children, shielding them from any wayward curses. Marlene raises her wand again, ready to strike.</p><p> </p><p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a low voice says behind her. She turns around. It’s one of the Lestrange brothers, she can't remember his name, but it doesn’t matter. Marlene squares her shoulders. Travers, disturbingly quick to recover from her attack, smiles calmly at her, raising his arms in a mock-welcoming gesture. "Well, well, look who the cat dragged in!"</p><p> </p><p>Lestrange, who’s got his wand between Marlene's shoulder blades, urges her to move forward into the room with a painful poke. Her own wand is in Travers’ hand.</p><p> </p><p>"We were planning on — how should I phrase this — <em>pick you up from work </em><em>later</em>, but it seems like you got here right on time all on your own," Travers continues icily, but Marlene is barely listening, her eyes following the blood trickling from a cut in Rory's forehead.</p><p> </p><p>"Leney, run," he gasps, and Evan Rosier, ever so mercurial, laughs. His wand is pointed at Rory's cheek, digging into tanned skin.</p><p> </p><p>"They're not involved with the Order." Marlene's surprised by how hoarse her voice is, as if she'd been the one screaming. "They know nothing. let them go."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, <em> Leney </em>," Rosier mocks. "Do you really think that's what we're doing here? Gathering information?"</p><p> </p><p>Lestrange nods towards where Marigold is sitting on the floor, holding her children tight. She’s whispering soothing promises, <em>shhh, it'll be okay, remember that mum loves you. shhh, shhh.</em></p><p> </p><p>"No—"</p><p> </p><p>Marlene has never been scared of death, simply because she’s never allowed herself to think twice about it for too long. But right now, seeing green light hit her older sister who falls in front of her daughters without getting up again ( like a puppet whose strings have been cut ), she can't help but be absolutely terrified.</p><p> </p><p>"Barty—" Donna, still on the floor, turns to one of the Death Eaters closest to her, pleading. Marlene didn't recognize him until she heard his name, but it is truly Bartemius Crouch junior, standing there proud and unflinching. The bottom of Marlene's stomach drops. Donna continues, sobbing as she clings to her former yearmate’s robes, "Barty, we used to be friends, we used to be <em> friends</em>, please don't do this, Barty —"</p><p> </p><p>This time, the green light from Crouch's wand temporarily blinds Marlene. Someone is screaming, and she isn't sure whether it's her or one of her nieces.</p><p> </p><p>"Only five to go, then<em> ," </em>Travers says smugly as he nudges the body of Marlene's darling little sister, who had her whole life left, who was going to change the world someday—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And now I know, now I know, now I know that you can hear me… and now I know, now I know, now I know, now I know... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Without really thinking, Marlene lunges at Crouch. His elbow connects with her jaw and the coppery taste of blood fills her mouth, but she kicks and reaches for his eyes with her sharp nails anyway. Someone grabs her hair and drags her away from him, forcing her to her knees. “Weak,” Travers snickers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The earth will shake, in two will break, the earth will shake, in two will break… death all around, around, around, around, around, around, around, around... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She can feel her eyes rolling back into her head. Not now, she thinks numbly, any time but now. No, no, no.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>( Curses fly through the air in five different directions and the shelves opposite her explode as they are hit; the towering structure sways as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurling into the air and float there, their voices echoing from who knew what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor, her own voice echoing back at her, <em> and none will come after… </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A small spun- glass ball drops from a pocket and there are two boys reaching for it in vain— the prophecy record smashes on the step beneath them and the boys stare as a pearly-white figure rises into the air, unnoticed by any but them—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The scene changes and she hears a chorus of voices, calling out <em>I am! I am! I am! </em>as a boy with unruly black hair and blurry features she can’t make out runs through dark hallways after someone she can’t see— is that James? )</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Someone's fist collides with her nose and Marlene gasps.</p><p> </p><p>"You're a Seer," Travers says breathlessly, part astonished, part enraged. Marlene, half stuck in the vision still, smiles up at him with bloodied teeth.  "What, like it's hard?"</p><p> </p><p>Travers' hatred is plain on his face. "<em> Crucio! </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Everything explodes into <em>pain </em>for what feels like an eternity as her body is lifted up in the air. It feels as though she’s being torn apart at the seams and she screams—</p><p> </p><p>She can't make out exactly what happens next, but all of a sudden the pain stops and she falls to the floor roughly. Marlene instantly knows that something is wrong with her leg —  perhaps it's broken. Dorcas would know. When she looks up, Lesley is at her side, steady as always, helping Marlene up on her feet and giving her back her wand. Rory, his reflexes quick from two decades of playing Quidditch, has already managed to disarm Travers and now brandishes the Death Eater’s wand.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, they end up back to back: for a brief moment, it’s just the three of them, the abandoned middle McKinnon children against the world.</p><p> </p><p>Green light shoots past Marlene's ear and — hits its mark.</p><p> </p><p>Rory falls. </p><p> </p><p>The world, answering Marlene's prayers far too late, stops for a moment. Lesley pants beside her as they stare in horror at their brother. He who seemed untouchable, unbreakable, who used to call her silly for not wanting to play Quidditch with him high up in the air, who used to put his arms around her shoulders when she cried, even if she never told him the reasons why—</p><p> </p><p>The world comes rushing back far too suddenly. Lesley yells something that might've been <em> you bastards </em>and is gone from Marlene's side in an instant, tearing her way through the death eaters towards Travers. Marlene wants to hold her back, shout <em>stay with me, </em>but she's exhausted and can only watch as brave, foolish Lesley stuns two of the Death Eaters with one curse.</p><p> </p><p>Lesley gets hit by three killing curses at once and Marlene's heart breaks into even tinier pieces than before. However, despite reality crashing down around her, Marlene remembers that not all is lost. she turns to look at Addie, seven years old, shaking and terrified, forgotten by the Death Eaters in the chaos. Marlene silently mouths <em>run. </em></p><p> </p><p>Addie, bless her quick thinking, grab her little sister's hand and bolts out of the room. Marlene allows herself to feel a tiny bit of hope. The door slams and she stands frozen, watching them through the window as they run through the garden, away, to safety—</p><p> </p><p>Another flash of green light.</p><p> </p><p>The two children fall face down in the grass.</p><p> </p><p>Marlene's scream chokes in her throat. One of the Death Eaters laughs, and something inside her <em>snaps</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Her wand is on the floor next to her, she must've dropped it – quick as lightning, she picks it up. The curses she casts are furious and precise, Flitwick would be proud—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em> ( </em> <em>  I hate war, </em>  she used to whisper to Dorcas in that particular silence unique to a battle in a stalemate, <em> I hate that I'm letting it consume me and swallow me whole. </em> <em> ) </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her spell sends two of the remaining Death Eaters flying into her small kitchen. They collide with the hand-painted cabinets and fall to the ground with a sickening thud, but Marlene doesn’t care. At this moment, she could’ve cast the strongest unforgivable curse in history, even though she has always condemned them. Everything she's done for the Order has been for the sake of peace, violence to end violence, but now she is all alone. Time is out of joint. Nothing is as it should be.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Confringo ! </em> " the spell hits her square in the chest and she screams. It hurts, it <em> burns, </em>and Marlene's trusty silver lime wand breaks into a million little pieces in her hand. She feels like she’s been set on fire.</p><p> </p><p>Fire.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Fire.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The fireplace.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marlene’s mind is racing: her family may be dead but she cannot let their sacrifices be for nothing. If she can get to the fireplace in her bedroom, she can get away, warn the Order...</p><p> </p><p>She casts one last curse, stunning perhaps two or three of the Death Eaters before she starts to run. The blood is rushing through her ears and there's something sticky dripping from her nose, undoubtedly from Travers's punch. But Marlene McKinnon has never been anything but stubborn.</p><p> </p><p>She stumbles through the corridor, almost tripping again and again, this time over the many plants on the floor. ( She can hear Dory's voice in her head, <em> I just don't have enough space at my place, Marls, can't you take care of them for me? ) </em>Curses fly over her head, singes her hair, creates scorch-marks on the walls.</p><p> </p><p>She finally reaches her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She doesn’t have the time to conjure any strong wards — if only she can find floo powder, she can get out of here, get somewhere safe. She pushes back the voices at the back of her head that tell her that it's useless.</p><p> </p><p>She hears the sound of cursing and ceramics breaking outside the door. Dorcas is going to kill her for the lost plant life, Marlene thinks absently, rummaging through her things for just a bit of floo powder. She would try to apparate but she would most definitely split; her hands are shaking and the blood on her face is mixed with tears.</p><p> </p><p>Images flash before her eyes, making it difficult to focus — Dorcas, cigarette in her mouth ( she’s never seen Dorcas smoke, it was always Marlene who poisoned herself like that ), eyes shining. teenagers painting in the dark, eight blurry faces slowly forming on a brick wall.</p><p> </p><p><em> "Bombarda!" </em>Someone shouts outside the door, and Marlene barely has the time to cover her head before the wall behind her explodes. Pieces of the roof collapse and fall down around her, burying the room in the remnants of the stone walls and thatched roof. bricks from the chimney fall like rain. Marlene coughs and coughs and coughs, blinded by and choking on the dust.⠀</p><p> </p><p>“We’re done here”, she hears Barty Crouch say, but footsteps are approaching her and suddenly someone grips her chin roughly, tilting it upwards. It’s Rosier, again.</p><p> </p><p>"Mudbloods are worthy of my hate", he sneers, and for a moment Marlene can hear the agonized screams of several people, sees cold waves crash against a building in the middle of the sea, Moody shouting something inaudible, before Rosier’s cool voice, simmering with rage, brings her back to reality. "But you're not even worth that, blood traitor. You're a disappointment, you know. So much wasted potential. Still, you're not worth enough for me to bring up the hatred needed for the killing curse."⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p>⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p> </p><p>His face is blurry as if she was watching him through the wrong glass lenses. Her eyes are watering and she can’t <em>breathe </em>properly.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Diffindo." </em>The words are barely audible over the blood rushing through her ears, but her scream as deep cuts slashes across her body is deafening, even to her own ears. She thinks she cries, a little, but she can’t be sure because everything hurts <em> — </em></p><p> </p><p>"Come on, Ev, let's go."⠀</p><p> </p><p>The dust is clearing but Marlene's eyes are struggling to get used to the darkness around her. When did it get so dark? her whole body is burning, burning, burning ...⠀</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She is alone.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>⠀⠀</p><p>
  <em> Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me... </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marlene breathes in. Then out. In again.</p><p> </p><p>A paragraph from an old book she'd read in divination class back at Hogwarts comes to mind: <em>Seers often end up the victim of their own predictions, a spider caught in its own web — or perhaps more accurately, an involuntary spectator to the chess game that is the world around them, with their loved ones as pawns.</em></p><p> </p><p>She looks up: a good portion of the roof has been blown away. she feels foolish for ever believing ( hoping ) that the old, trusty stone would protect her from the war.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a mild summer breeze caressing Marlene's hair, her face. It makes her think of Marigold. Or maybe mum. Marlene had almost forgotten what she was like, her mum. What's worse is that she'd almost forgotten what Adelaide McKinnon's touch had felt like, warm hands cupping Marlene's face and humming soft lullabies. It almost hurts more than the cuts and burn marks on her body.</p><p> </p><p>It's so, so quiet, apart from a faint sound of a piano coming from the turntable, back in the still-intact living room ( where the bodies of her family lie ).</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You will remember, when this is blown over and everything's all by the way... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She tries to crawl to the fireplace, one last attempt at escaping, but her body is searing with white-hot pain. She can’t do anything but slump back against her bed, exhausted, fading.</p><p> </p><p>From where Marlene's sitting on the floor, however, her chin tilted against the quilted bedspread Molly Weasley had given her last Christmas, the green light from the dark mark in the sky above shines on her like an artificial moon.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>When I grow older, I will be there by your side to remind you, how I still love you...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Marlene closes her eyes, but the green light still makes its way through her eyelids. She wants to cry, but there seem to be no tears left in her, only pain, as the images in her head keep flashing like an unstoppable muggle picture show. The past and the present and the future blurs into an overwhelming maelstrom of impressions and memories and stolen moments Marlene feels like she shouldn't be seeing:</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What you fear is fear itself— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Beloved, beloved, beloved... </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There's a knock on Alice and Frank Longbottom's door, their little boy is upstairs in his crib and they're just about to make breakfast—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tortured to insanity— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Is this Marlene's fault?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You heard James? </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marlene laughs as Dorcas spins her, around and around and around, bare feet against the soft carpet of her living room as the last rays of sunshine make its way through the sheer curtains— when was the last time Marlene stopped and truly looked at her? when was the last time she asked how Dorcas felt? What was the last thing Marlene had said to her?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Oh— how dared Travers call her weak, that bastard, when he couldn't even finish the job properly? But he'll be dead, too, Marlene muses, a day or maybe a week or perhaps sixteen years from now, thanks to a well-timed curse by little Bill Weasley who isn't so little anymore and still refuses to cut his hair and are those scars on his cheek?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Professor Dumbledore falling, falling, falling— it never seems to end—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em> Neither can live while the other survives... </em>⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Is this Marlene's fault?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Beloved, beloved, beloved...</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dory absentmindedly drawing protection runes on Marlene's hand in that corner of the library that was<em> theirs </em>( and oh, how Marlene regrets not telling her how grateful she is for Dorcas' very existence ) —</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There's bodies lined up in the great hall, a family of redheads bundled together, and Marlene tries to reach them, get a glimpse of who they have lost, not one of the children, please, they're just <em> kids </em>—</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter! </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She turns around and there is a girl with dark hair weeping openly in a ruined hallway, and suddenly it's 1967 and Marlene is stuck in a tree and there is a small girl in a pretty yellow dress on a swing below—⠀⠀⠀⠀</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Beloved, beloved, beloved...</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>I still love you</em>, Freddie Mercury sings.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There is a small boy with knobbly knees crying silently inside a cupboard and Marlene wishes she could hug him and whisper soothing promises like Marigold did to her daughters, ask Harry where James and Lily are— </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> His servant has been chained these twelve years... </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hogwarts, collapsing. The room of requirement ( what is that ? ) is burning, and Marlene burns with it, this distorted knowledge of the future dying with her in a twisted parallel to the library of Alexandria.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They got her whole family.   </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And none will come after— </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Back, hurry back... please, bring it back home to me... </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Then: silence.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Everything turns so, so blissfully silent.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marlene can barely remember the last time her mind was quiet. These last few years have been a constant battle in her mind between visions and scattered fragments of could-have-beens. Despite her aching, failing body, her mind can finally rest. A traitorous part of her is grateful for this.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Iit’s over, Marlene realizes. there’s the rub: there’s nothing else to see. She’s not grateful for the silence anymore; instead, it chills her to the bone, and she wants to scream, wants to demand that the universe allows her to see what happens next. She's always hated her visions, the way they set her apart from everyone else, the way she hasn't been able to sleep properly since she was a teenager. But at this moment, she would do anything to see 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳? Will the order be alright, will Remus and Sirius and Peter and the Potters be alright? Will <em>Dorcas</em> be alright?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em> Because you don't know what it means to me... </em> <em>⠀</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But her inner eye gives her nothing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s over.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> fin. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This has been a WIP since late October/early November, so posting it is extremely cathartic but also very sad. Please keep in mind that I am not a native English speaker so there might be some typos. </p><p>A special shoutout to my dear friend Seph, whose portrayal of Dorcas and our headcanons had a great impact on this! Mwah ily</p><p>The title and lyrics are from The Prophet's Song by Queen. Love of my Life by Queen is also quoted.</p><p>While the concept of Marlene being a seer is not canon or mine originally ( i was introduced to it when I read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986366/chapters/13756558">face death in the hope</a> by lullabyknell here on ao3! However, this interpretation of divination and seers/expansion of the canon lore is something I have written myself and really put thought and effort into. Also, Marlene being one of the Seers whose prophecy record gets broken in OotP is not canon.</p><p>If you'd like to learn more about my interpretation of Marlene, the McKinon family or if you're confused by my portrayal of Seers/Divination, feel free to check out my <a href="https://youngandclever.carrd.co/">Carrd</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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